


A Good Life

by Rainbow_Femme



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Prom, This one is actually happy I promise, for a fic request, patrochilles - Freeform, prosthetic!achilles, trans!patroclus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-28 17:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5099594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbow_Femme/pseuds/Rainbow_Femme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Writing this for an anon fic request based on the au that Phillatos on tumblr came up with. Transgender Patroclus and Achilles with prosthetic limbs. It's a modern au drabble from them meeting to after they've been married a while with lots of fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. High School

He was 14 and hiding in a bathroom stall, and it was only his first day. He knew the first day of high school, and a new school district, was never something to be excited about, but he'd hoped for something better than this.

To be fair, it was no one else's fault but his own. He should have noticed the sharp edged nail sticking out a quarter inch form the stall wall. And when he felt his binder catch a snag after taking off his shirt to change, he should not have instinctively jerked away from it. Now, he hadn't even gone to his first class and he was stuck, binder ripped completely up the side and no way of getting out without someone noticing.

He flinched when he heard someone enter the other stall, trying to stay as quiet as possible and hope they didn't notice him.

"You like changing in the stalls too?" Crap, so much for subtlety. 

"Um, yeah." He was glad that he at least wasn't the only one not changing in front of others for gym class. He rubbed at his arm. Now what? This guy would know something was wrong if he didn't get out at the same time as him.

"You ok?" He heard the rustling of a shirt being shed and dropped to the floor.

"Yeah I just... I caught my shirt on a nail and it ripped all up the side, I can't wear it." He heard the rustling stop as the other listened to him.

"Dude that sucks. And you don't have another one?"

He sighed and shook his head, more to himself than the other. No, he had thought to keep an extra with him but hadn't wanted to be caught with it. "Nope. Even thought I should, but decided against it."

He heard a soft whap noise and looked up, a bright red sweatshirt now hanging over the thin dividing wall. "Here, put this on and go to the nurse, see if you can call your mom for another one. I'll tell the teacher what happened so you won't get in trouble."

He quickly pulled the oversized sweatshirt on with immense relief, noting how its bagginess hid his unbound chest. "Oh my god, thank you. Seriously, thank you so much. You saved my day."

"It's nothing, really." Despite the words, he could hear the shy smile of the other. Making sure all was hidden, he emerged from his stall and so did the other. He was struck immediately by how attractive the boy was. Taller than him by a good couple inches, he had skin almost as dark as Patroclus', with brilliant gold hair, and a shimmering golden arm and leg to match. His shorts covered where the flesh ended and the metal began on his left leg, but he could see that the prosthetic arm went to just above his elbow. He hadn't known you could get a prosthesis that looked like that, but it looked like he was wearing brilliant gold plated armor that shone even in the dim fluorescent lighting.

It took him a second to speak after taking in all that this beautiful boy was. "Thanks. Again. Really, you're really saving my butt here." The warning bell rang so he quickly headed to the door, stopping when he heard the boy behind him yell.

"Wait! What's your name?"

He turned. "Patroclus. I'm Patroclus." The boy smiled brightly at him and nodded.

"I'm Achilles."

\--

He sat in the nurses office on an uncomfortable green chair, waiting for his mom to bring his other binder in, glad no one else had been in the office but the nurse, and she couldn't have been less interested in his existence once she knew she didn't have to do anything but give him the phone and tell him to dial 9.

He looked up as a flash of gold caught his eye and Achilles walked in, holding a slightly bloody towel to his nose.

He walked casually to the nurse, his voice slightly nasally. "Can I have an ice pack please?" The woman sighed and nodded, retrieving a blue pack, wrapping it in a clean towel, and pointing for him to sit next to Patroclus. They sat in awkward silence for a moment.

"You call your mom?"

"Yup, she's coming in a couple minutes."

"Good."

They sat quietly for another minute, Patroclus looking at his hands and Achilles leaning back, keeping his head up and the ice pack against his face.

"So was it dodge ball that I missed?"

"Basketball actually."

"Ah."

Another pause, then Achilles cleared his throat.

"I'm not actually bad at sports or anything. This was... Well, an accident."

"I didn't assume you did it on purpose."

"Well actually I did. I mean, I did and I didn't. Just... Shit, one second." He took the ice pack and turned to Patroclus.

"I was bored and I kinda wanted to come and make sure you got your shirt and stuff, you know? So I thought 'Hey, I'll throw the ball at the wall and when it hits me, pretend it hurts and go to the nurse.' Except I kinda threw it too hard and instead of like getting hit in the stomach, this happened." He gestured to his face and Patroclus had to suppress a laugh.

"You broke your own nose on purpose, just for an excuse to get out of gym class?"

"Well I mean it's not  _technically_ broken, but kinda yeah." He smiled a little sheepishly and Patroclus couldn't help but laugh. This guy was unbelievable. After a moment, Achilles laughed with him too, wincing at the pain from his nose but then laughing harder.

"Fuck, it is pretty stupid, isn't it?"

Patroclus smiled. "No more stupid than ripping your shirt in half on the first day."

Achilles grinned at him and it was like the sun lighting up in front of him, and he wondered how the nurse hadn't noticed.

\--

Patroclus walked inside his house a month later, shedding his backpack and jacket and walking into the kitchen where his mother was peeling carrots.

"I'm going to tell him. Today when he comes over, I'm going to tell him."

"Tell him what, dear?" She didn't look up, distracted by the vegetables in her hands.

"About me, that I'm, you know, trans and stuff. I'm going to tell him."

She wiped her hands on her apron and looked at him. "You think he'll take it ok? He's a good boy, but you know sometimes people can be a little... Unpredictable." Neither had to say it, his father's absence speaking for itself. He had not reacted badly outwardly. No yelling or cursing. Just began spending less and less time at home, showing less and less interest in them both since he had come out. It had just been another thing in a line of instances of those in his life not living up to his expectations. He had been working out of Berlin since the August before Patroclus had started high school and rarely called. They didn't know what he was doing over there or if he was ever coming back, but he still payed the mortgage and his half of the bills, so for the time being it was not a reason for worry.

"I think he's going to be ok. He's a good guy, I'm sure things are going to go ok. And if not... Well, we'll go from there." He didn't really want to think about what would happen if Achilles rejected him. For most of his life he had gone to school on the other side of town, but after coming out had wanted a fresh start where no one knew about his history or that he had been designated female at birth. Achilles had befriended him immediately and they had become inseparable. He really didn't want to face the rest of high school without him.

Before he could fret too much, the doorbell rang. Taking a deep breath, he went to the door and let Achilles in, reminding himself that this was just like any other day and everything was going to be fine. Leading him up to his room, past his mother who gave a friendly hello, his frantic mind began reaching for any excuse not to do this but he shook himself, knowing he wouldn't feel fully comfortable until Achilles knew. Until he could really talk to Achilles about everything.

Achilles flopped on his bed, casually removing his prosthetic leg and arm. He said he got sore by the end of the day, and Patroclus had assured him he didn't mind if he hung out with them off it was more comfortable. He looked at Patroclus quizzically when he didn't move to join him for their usual afternoon of tv and video games.

"I need to tell you something. Or show you something. Or both." He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, a nervous habit.

Achilles sat up, face going serious. "Are you dying?"

He blanched for a second, caught off guard. "What? No, of course not."

Achilles sagged in relief. "Ok good, I figured I'd ask the worst case scenario and just get it out of the way."

Patroclus couldn't help but smile a little. "No it's ok, it's nothing like that. It's just..." He gestured wordlessly in the air. "Here, I'll just do this." He lifted his shirt over his head, Achilles confused for a moment before realization dawned on his face. Patroclus spoke before Achilles could, gesturing to his binder. "This is what I ripped that first day, not my shirt. Well, not this one specifically obviously, but one like this. I use it to, you know, squish everything down and stuff." Now that it was out there and he was waiting for a reply, the cold October air was chilly against his nervously warm skin, making him shiver.

After a moment of silence, Achilles nodded. "Ok." He looked up and into Patroclus' face. "Ok."

He put his short back on. "You sure?"

Achilles shrugged. "Of course. You're you and this is part of you, and I like you so I like this too. Not that I've ever had anything against this or anything. Or... Shit, hold on. " He ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I'm trying to think of something good and meaningful to say, I know when I first came out as gay I wanted everyone to make these big speeches about acceptance and stuff, so I'm trying to come up with one that's good on the fly."

Patroclus smiled and hugged him tight. "You don't need to, I'm just glad it's all good. I was so scared."

Achilles frowned. "Did I make you think I'd react badly? Did I say something?"

He shook his head. "No, but you just never know. It's obviously a secret though, so don't tell anybody, ok?"

Achilles squeezed his hand. "Promise." He smiled like he did the day they met and Patroclus could have kissed him he was so relieved, and so happy he wasn't going to be losing his best friend.

\--

He lay his head on their lunch table, hands folded over his abdomen. It was early this time, he hadn't premedicated. He hadn't brought any supplies or anything, not wanting to unless he absolutely had to, plagued by nightmares of his backpack falling open, filled with  _sanitary napkins._ He hated everything about the awful process. 

Achilles rubbed his back, speaking low. "What's wrong? You feeling ok? Are you sick."

He sighed. "It's... You know, the awful thing?" Other kids were beginning to fill the table so he sat up. "I got blindsided by a bad math test. I wasn't prepared for it, I didn't have anything to study from."

Achilles nodded slowly, hopefully following his meaning. "You know, I've got, um, math notes in my locker if you want them?"

Patroclus frowned. Maybe he wasn't getting it. But Achilles was already leading him to his locker in the deserted hallway.

"It wasn't an actual math test you know..."

Achilles opened his locker. "I know."

He tossed a yellow pad to Pat, who quickly stuffed it in his pocket. "Why do you have these?" Achilles took out ibuprofen, giving him four, a little bashful.

"Well I know you can be a little unprepared for stuff like this, cause you get nervous about carrying stuff, so I thought 'Well maybe I should keep some stuff then,' so I went to the store, and I was gonna get, you know, tampons and stuff cause I heard they're better, but they come in all sorts of crazy sizes I couldn't figure out, and then they all say toxic shock syndrome on them and I didn't want to accidentally poison you or something so I figured I'd be safe and get you the non poisonous stuff."

Patroclus smiled, taking the water bottle he was offered and taking the ibuprofen, touched that Achilles had put that much thought into it and was willing to have this stuff on him, just for Patroclus.

"Math Test" began to be their code word for anything to do with that devilish six days each month. No one seemed to catch on, although one boy remarked that Patroclus must really be bad at math. Achilles always had whatever he needed, although Pat tried to stay stocked as much as he could. But it was nice to know that Achilles always had his back, no matter what.

\--

Achilles and Patroclus were walking home early November of their second year, Achilles arm brushing against him with every other step, making him warm all over in a way he didn't want to admit. Sure he liked guys and all, but this was Achilles! His best friend, ever. He couldn't think about him that way, he wouldn't.

Achilles stiffened next to him and he hoped desperately that his thoughts hadn't been obvious, before he heard him whisper.

"Don't look but we're being followed."

He swallowed, wondering if it was thugs from school, or maybe a gang. He turned his head slightly to look and his heart dropped. Oh god, worse. It was three Canadian geese, waddling way too close for comfort. He quickly turned forward. "Oh god what do they want with us?"

"I don't know, just don't run, if we run they'll chase us. Just try to pretend they're not- Oh god there's two more now." His metal hand closed over Patroclus', the smart mechanics of the expensive prosthetic allowing it to respond to impulses just like his other arm. Despite the fear, he was glad Achilles' impulse was to hold his hand in fear.

They tried to stay as calm as possible as the light slapping of webbed feet followed them, no matter what turn they took. He gripped Achilles' hand tighter, trying not to bolt. Bolting would only get them pecked to death, or beaten with those wings that were strong enough to break bone. God, he hated geese.

Carefully and achingly slow, they got within sight of his house when Achilles yelled "Run!" And sprinted forward, pulling Patroclus along with him. He could hear the surprised and angry squawking of the flock of geese that had stalked them, heard the flapping of their massive wings as they gave chase. He didn't feel safe until he had slammed the door behind them, their angry pecking and flapping thudding against the thick oak.

"I hate them! They need to go bother people in the south now, don't they know it's cold out? No one wants you, geese!" Achilles jabbed his finger at them through the window, glaring menacingly. The geese seemed unimpressed and continued to attack their door.

Patroclus giggled to himself as Achilles tormented the geese, calling his mother and telling her ahead of time that their door might be a little worse for wear when she gets home.

"Well, nothing we can do about it until they leave. Oh, and your grandmother will be calling later so please pick up and talk to her." He groaned loudly but agreed, dragging Achilles away from the window and up to his room, Achilles continuing to yell more goose insults than Patroclus knew there were. Once he had gotten him to forget them and put in the third Jurassic Park movie, they had just begun to have fun when his phone of course had to go off. He groaned and rolled over, Achilles snickering as he watched one of the characters get eaten by a dinosaur.

It took his grandmother five minutes to get to the reason for her call, telling him all about her sewing circle and book club first.

"Grandma, I'm sure he doesn't need one-"

"Well just ask, sweetie, there's no harm in asking."

He sighed and put the phone to his chest. "Achilles, do you have a Christmas stocking with your name on it?"

Achilles looked at him, tearing himself away from the heated T-Rex vs Spinosaurus battle. "No?"

He sighed again and returned to his grandmother.

"No, he doesn't grandma... Blue, I think? But he also likes yellow too. No, no sports, but he likes watching baseball." He rubbed at his eyes. "Ok, see you then." He tossed his phone to the foot of the bed and lay back down. "You're getting a baseball Christmas stocking on Monday from my grandma."

He frowned. "Why?"

Patroclus shrugged. "She likes making them for family."

"And I'm...?"

"Yeah, you're pretty much family now." He looked at Achilles, watching those big green eyes begin to mist. He knew Achilles had a small family, just him and his divorced parents, and he always loved hanging out with Patroclus and his family. "Oh, and you're invited for Thanksgiving again, if you wanna come."

"I... I didn't... Thank you. That's... Thanks. Yes, I would love to." He smiled and quickly wiped his eyes, turning back to the movie. Patroclus smiled a little to himself and rubbed Achilles' arm, trying not to notice the electrical current running up his arm at the small touch.

\--

"It was a car accident."

Patroclus looked up from his book. It was summer time, a few months before their junior year was set to start. Patroclus had just started hormone replacement therapy, courtesy of Achilles lawyer mother reluctantly agreeing to help him get it from doctors not wanting him to have it yet. She may not be crazy about Patroclus, but she was determined to win as Best Parent over Peleus at all costs. He was lying on a hammock while Achilles lay in the grass, looking up at the sky, one hand lazily rocking the hammock.

"What was?"

Achilles looked at him. "My arm and leg. Car accident, when I was 8. My dad was driving. This guy blew through a stop sign and hit us. The door crumpled in like tin foil and messed up my whole left side." He looked down. "It's why my parents are divorced too. My mom could never forgive him for not being more careful with me in the car, insisting on a fancy car rather than a durable family one. She insisted we pay for all the hi-tech stuff like this, nerve sensors and all. She said he owed it to me to get me something as close to the real thing as possible. She's had them all painted to look like this too." He waved his golden arm lazily. "Said it was to remind me that I wasn't less than anyone else just because I was missing some bits."

"Well she's right about that. You're great, four limbs or two." Achilles smiled a little at him.

"I thought I'd say it, cause you never asked. Which I get, and I'm glad you didn't. I hate when people just ask what happened out of the blue. I like doing it myself, like this." He reached up a hand, interlocking his cool metal fingers with Patroclus' free hand. "That's what I like about us, Pat. We get each other. Nobody gets us like us."

He smiled and squeezed his hand. He no longer tried to stop the flutter in his stomach or the pounding of  his heart when it came to Achilles. He just gazed at the golden Adonis lying below him, eyes closed and soaking in the warmth of the sun. He loved Achilles and Achilles was his best friend, so it would always just be inside, under the surface. He was happy as long as they were together.

\--

Patroclus adjusted his tie, looking himself over in the mirror a little worriedly. The tux was a little small on him but he couldn't feel anything but a little giddy about that. He had been on T for what was getting close to a year now and he had shot up a good number of inches and had finally been putting on some muscle mass. Of course, it came with quite a few nights of grueling growing pains, his body reacting to a whole second puberty in the middle of his first one. But with the acne and pains came a number of changes he was loving every time he looked in the mirror. He had even had to buy new shoes as his feet grew.

He combed his hair one last time, taking a deep breath. There was nothing to be nervous about when it came to prom. Sure Achilles asked if he would go with him, but it was as friends. Sure they were going separately from all their friends, Achilles denying their friend Briseis' offer of sharing a limo so they could take Achilles car, but none of it meant anything, that was just Achilles being Achilles. He had spent enough time fantasizing about what it could mean, in a world where Achilles somehow could look at plain Patroclus compared to his golden self and want to be with him, but he refused to think it now. He wanted to enjoy the night for what it was, not what he would always wish it could be. 

Achilles met him at the door, looking far better than anyone should legally look in Patroclus' opinion, resplendent in his dark navy suit, his hair brushed to a gleam. He pinned a blue corsage to Patroclus, matching one he was also wearing and offering his arm, winking at him. "Ready to go?"

He couldn't speak around his unusually dry mouth so he just nodded, taking his arm and walking with him, enjoying their proximity and never wanting it to end. 

The prom was held in the ballroom of an art museum in the city, one he and Achilles had gone to a few times to kill an afternoon and laugh at the old paintings. He had never been to the ballroom and was immediately blown away. 

The ceiling was a good three stories up, with two stories of open balconies filled with dinner tables for the dancers to sit at if they got tired. Someone had looped fairy lights along every visible railing, making the room sparkle.

He spent a good two hours dancing with Achilles and Briseis, trying to keep his heart from flying out of his chest every time Achilles touched him, or looked at him while dancing, his eyes burning with delight and excitement. At one point Briseis looped her scarf around his neck, dancing with him lasso'd close to her and giggling. It wasn't until his phone buzzed in his pocket that he noticed Achilles was missing. Briseis turned to lasso another dancer while he went off the dance floor to check his messages. His heart dropped a little when he heard a slow song come on. He knew it was stupid to get his hopes up, to think he could find a way to slow dance with Achilles, but still, part of him had hoped. He looked at the message, melancholy turning to confusion.

"Come to the 4th floor."

Winding his way out of the room and up the stairs, stepping over the "Employees Only" sign, he made his way up to the fourth floor, the music following him. Soon he found Achilles standing at the end of a dark hallway in front of a large open window, looking out. The window was at a corner, coming to a point in the center. He turned to Patroclus and grinned, holding out his hand.

"Come Titanic me!"

Patroclus smiled and jogged over, putting his hands on Achilles waist as he flung his arms out, grinning like an idiot. "I'm the king of the world!" Wind rustled their hair and Patroclus laughed. At Achilles, at the situation, at the fun he always had when it was just the two of them together. Achilles voice echoed off the marble walls and silent paintings, reverberating back to them over and over, a thousand ghosts of Achilles filling the hall.

Achilles turned, still grinning, and stepped out of the way. "Now you."

Patroclus' face heated as he stepped into his place, holding his arms out at his sides. He couldn't make himself yell like Achilles, so he closed his eyes, feeling the cool breeze on his face, Achilles hands on his waist. Then Achilles hands moving, his arms encircling his middle, his cool nose bumping against his jaw tentatively. Keeping his eyes closed, he turned his head towards Achilles, heart hammering in his chest. Their noses ghosted over each other, then soft lips touched his own ever so slightly, gauging his reaction. He leaned towards him, covering Achilles' hands with his own. Achilles pressed his mouth to Patroclus' lower lip, one hand sliding up his side to caress his neck, pressing them closer.

Patroclus turned sharply then, unable to just stand there. Looping his arms around Achilles, he kissed him with all the force of two years of pent up love and frustration he had inside himself, Achilles holding him tightly and kissing back, his right hand threading his fingers through his hair as his left braced them against the wall, keeping them upright. Patroclus could do nothing but cling to him, silently begging for him to never, ever, stop. 

When Achilles finally plied their mouths apart, they were both gasping for air and clinging to each other. He finally opened his eyes and found Achilles staring at him in wonder, like he was the one who was breathtakingly handsome, like he was the one who shone in the sunlight and radiated light and warmth to all around him. Like Achilles loved him. Really and truly loved him.

Achilles pulled him close, resting their cheeks against each other and nuzzling into him, swaying their bodies along to the music coming from down the hall. Patroclus buried his face against Achilles neck, tears filling his eyes. Neither of them spoke, just held each other and swayed, Achilles humming along to the music that seemed to be made just for them.

\--

Senior year, they finally let Achilles play sports.

For years, their school had claimed they didn't want to deal with any insurance headache or liability that could come from having him play. It took his mother along with two additional lawyers, 8 hours of meetings, and a legally binding document that the school would not be held liable for any incident involving Achilles before he could play.

It wasn't baseball like he wanted, but Soccer was good enough. He just wanted to be doing something. Patroclus went to every practice and every game, bubble wrapping any metal area so he wouldn't hit anybody else. He insisted on wearing bright yellow cleats as well.

"So you can spot me better on the field."

Patroclus grinned and applied more neon green duck tape to the bubble wrap. "Yes, because you're so hard to find in a crowd."

He always kissed him before a game, always pulled him in for a sweaty hug after a game. Patroclus didn't care if he smelled awful, or if said smell had permeated every inch of his car by this point. It was worth it to watch him springing up and down the field, that brilliant smile never once leaving his face, for the nights they spent after the games, curled up in a bath with Patroclus washing his hair, or lying on Achilles bed, both stripped of their armor in a way only the other had ever seen them, trying to stroke and kiss and caress every inch of the other. 

Patroclus liked to whisper every part of the game he had enjoyed into Achilles ear, telling him how amazing he looked on the field, how much faster he was than everyone else, how graceful he was on the field, like he was made for games of skill and strategy like that, like he could do anything. Achilles would blush and bury his head against him, trying to shake his head against the praise but ultimately melting under the spell of Patroclus' love and adoration. 

In return, Achilles could never stop talking about how smart his Patroclus was. His Patroclus was the top of their class, his Patroclus was getting offers from schools all over the country for their pre med programs, his Patroclus who knew more about the human body than anyone else, his Patroclus that would whisper the names of every muscle, bone, and organ as he kissed paths over Achilles' skin. His Patroclus was the greatest in all the world. And his Patroclus had found a school with a pre med program and a music program. Achilles had cried the day they were both accepted, holding Patroclus tightly, refusing to let go now that he knew he wouldn't have to.

When the day of graduation came, they both got ready in Patroclus' house, standing wet and shirtless in front of the bathroom mirror, both trying to shave at the same time.

"You know..." Patroclus rinsed his razor before continuing. "Growing up, I always fantasized about having a beard. I'd look at different kinds, had different ones planned for different phases of my life. Now, the second I see hair I have to shave it. No one told me how annoying they are. It feels like my face is covered in ants when I have one."

Achilles nodded, purposely elbowing him in the cheek as he shaved under his chin. "I'm the same. I had big dreams of the worlds greatest goatee in middle school, but in reality I look like the guy from Road to El Dorado when I have a beard."

"Ooh he's hot though."

Achilles elbowed him again and they both laughed. 

They got dressed in their matching robes, Achilles with a special chord indicating he had been an athlete, something he had teared up at the sight of when they got their bundles, and Patroclus with his chord that showed he had been on high honor roll. With pictures and tears from Patroclus' mother and Achilles father, they made it to the ceremony, separated by two rows of seats, though Achilles spent most of his time tearing up pieces of the pamphlet they had been given with the ceremony order and throwing them at Patroclus' head, trying to land them on his cap.

Patroclus crossed first, shaking hands with everyone and posing for the pictures, Achilles easily heard screaming and hollering from his seat, easily seen waving his arms over his head in excitement, and then Achilles crossed, who got a loud cheer from the school as a whole, but none louder than Patroclus. Achilles lifted his arms over his head and waved to everyone before descending the stairs. Patroclus waited for him to return to his seat, only to feel a familiar buzz against his thigh that meant Achilles had other plans.

"I'm sick of speeches."

Checking to make sure no eyes were on him, he quickly snuck down the aisle. Telling his mother where he was going before exiting, he met Achilles at his car, hugging him tightly and kissing him before piling into his car and driving to the beach, throwing their caps and gowns out the window with hollers of excitement and freedom, looking forward to the next step of their adventures together.


	2. College

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Achilles and Patroclus in college. Warning: Major fluff ahead

The tenth floor. Of course they were on the tenth floor. Achilles and his father dragged his totes up the stairs, Patroclus and his mother setting things up in their shared room to try and make things go quicker. Achilles' mother hadn't come, she had instead had him stay the night at her home for their goodbye rather than spend the day with his father. As for Patroclus' father... Well last they heard, he was somewhere in Germany. Patroclus didn't seem too upset, so he tried not to get angry. His parents may not get along, but at the very least they both wanted to be involved in his life. They didn't love each other, but they loved him. Perhaps a bit aggressively at times, but still.

When he had ridden the elevator the last time, setting down the last tote of what he thought was blankets and pillows, Patroclus had almost finished setting things up, leaving only the blankets off and Achilles' clothes unpacked, allowing him to set things up himself. They each hugged their parents and said tearful goodbyes. Achilles wasn't sure how to feel, truthfully. He was officially on his own now, but on his own with Patroclus at least. He didn't know how he'd handle any of this without him. He was the rock of their relationship as well as Achilles' life. He'd be adrift without him.

Patroclus hugged him from behind, nuzzling his shoulder. "Wanna push the beds together?" Achilles smiled slowly and nodded, each going to a bed and pulling them from the wall, pushing them together at the center of the room, then overlapping sheets and blankets to make the twin beds resemble a queen. The beds were high, higher than they had any right to be, and it took a bit of vaulting to get themselves onto them, which left them both in a fit of giggles as they clawed their way up. At the very least, they could now be together as much as they wanted without their parents being a room away. 

Achilles pushed Patroclus to the bed, wanting to take advantage of that fact immediately. Pressing their mouths together, Patroclus threaded his fingers through Achilles hair, opening his mouth to him happily. Yes, this could work for him.

\--

They had their first fire drill their fourth night in the dorm. Patroclus was nuzzled against his chest and Achilles had his arm looped around his waist. They were warm, they were comfortable, and after a passionate night together, it was 2:50 in the morning and they had just fallen asleep when the whooping alarm blared overhead, jerking them both upright.

"Somebody better be on fucking fire!"

Patroclus quickly looked for clothes while Achilles tried to find his leg in the dark, fumbling with the lamp.

5 minutes and ten floors later, they were huddled together under a blanket behind the building with the rest of the people in their dorm, all grumbling and shuffling around, some barefoot or shirtless and shivering in the cool early September air. Achilles was finding it all rather amusing until he saw Patroclus press closer to his chest, face crest fallen. He hugged him closer.

"What's wrong?" He stroked a blanket covered hand over his face.

Patroclus shrugged. "It was just such a wonderful night, now it's ruined."

Achilles shook his head, kissing Patroclus' forehead. "Nah, it was still a wonderful night. This is just a shitty morning." He grinned and Patroclus did too, kissing him. He loved making Patroclus happy, he hated seeing a sad face on his perfect Patroclus.

"OK, back on in!" They both looked up, remembering what they were doing there, faces warming a bit as they remembered they were surrounded by the rest of their dorm. They hung back and let everyone else go first, knowing Achilles would probably take a little longer to get up anyway.

Their giddy bliss ended when they found themselves at the base of the stairwell.

"How long did they say the elevators are out after a fire alarm?"

Patroclus swallowed. "Half an hour."

Achilles nodded, looking up the 11 floors they would have to climb. "Ok. This is fine, ok." Taking a deep breath, they began walking up the stairs,

By the third floor, they were beginning to feel a little winded. Patroclus stopped a minute to take in a deep breath and Achilles did the same, standing a step behind him. By the sixth floor, Achilles was admittedly panting, holding onto his side. By the 8th floor Patroclus was clinging to the railing, wheezing.

"I thought... You were... An athlete. Why... Are you... So tired?"

Achilles tried to laugh but it came out a little strangled through his sandpaper dry throat. "Jogging up... And down... A field... Is different... Than 11 flights... Of stairs..." Patroclus giggled a little, sinking to his knees.

"God, I hate this so much... Maybe we should have waited out the elevator..."

Achilles slowly pulled himself up, dragging himself up the next flight with the railing, his leg feeling like Jello underneath him. Patroclus headbutted his lower back, on all fours. "Almost there."

Achilles slowly clawed his way to the tenth floor landing, heaving on his hands and knees. Tenth floor. It had to be the tenth floor. Patroclus slowly pushed himself up off the floor, legs wobbling and offering his hands to Achilles, hauling him up and supporting him, what was left of his left thigh throbbing from the prosthetic digging into him. He hadn't had time to grab the sleeve covering and would absolutely be feeling that the next morning.

Patroclus shakily opened their door, both tumbling in. Patroclus flopped forward onto their bed, scrambling until he got both legs up. Achilles took his leg off, wincing at the red marks dug into his skin. Next he placed his arm to the side and got himself onto their high bed, chest heaving.

"That. Was. Awful." Patroclus wearily patted his head, too exhausted to lift his arm any more than that. They rolled towards each other, flopping an arm over the other and falling asleep almost immediately, not bothering to get under the blankets.

\--

Their sophomore year, Achilles was waiting for Patroclus in the library cafe. Patroclus had taken the bus into town for groceries, his turn this week. He tried to tell himself that him being ten minutes late didn't mean anything, but was admittedly relieved when Patroclus came into the warmly lit room, drenched from a downpour Achilles hadn't noticed over the jazz music being played.

"You ok?" He shed his jacket, putting it over his boyfriend's shoulders.

"Fine, just really cold. And wet. And a gross guy coughed on me on the bus." He pulled the jacket more securely around himself while Achilles went and bought him a hot chocolate, hoping it would help.

"Take some Nyquil when we get back to the room, sleep will help." Patroclus nodded up at him and smiled, sipping his warm drink. 

They were back in the room an hour later, and Patroclus was coughing. He kept turning away and coughing roughly into his elbow, saying he didn't want Achilles to catch anything. Achilles tried to convince him it was fine, but opted for convincing him to take off his binder at least. For being a pre-med student, he was terrible at remembering to take care of himself. Achilles had read that binders plus being sick were a bad mix, especially with his lungs involved. Patroclus grumbled that he was being over protective but did it anyway, changing into sweatpants and a baggy shirt and getting in bed, taking the medicine from Achilles and kissing his cheek before coughing into his arm again. He was asleep within ten minutes, head pillowed on Achilles' lap while he stroked his hair worriedly. He would be fine, it was fine.

The next day, Patroclus threw up everything that went into his stomach. An apple, a breakfast bar, dry crackers from the dining hall, even water couldn't stay down. He couldn't get up to shower or change his clothes, his body racked with shuddering, hacking coughing that hurt Achilles' heart to watch. Patroclus wouldn't let him near him while he coughed, afraid he would get him sick. He was weakly curled up in bed as Achilles tried to make him try water again, Patroclus' eyes filling with tears.

"I'm sorry, I can't. I don't want to throw up again, it hurts." Achilles hugged him and nodded, saying they could try later, after Patroclus slept some more. He slept most of the rest of the day. They tried water again around midnight, just a small sip, but it still came back up, Patroclus apologizing over and over to Achilles while he rubbed his back, shushing him and promising it was fine, they would try again tomorrow. Patroclus pressed his face into his pillow, too dehydrated to cry, or maybe so exhausted that his body couldn't sacrifice the energy it took to make the tears. The coughing kept coming and coming, the kind that made Achilles taste blood in the back of his throat to hear. Patroclus couldn't even manage to suck on a throat lozenge without gagging, couldn't take medicine without lunging for the wastebasket.

Achilles cupped his hands around Pat's cold ones, blowing warm air onto them and rubbing them together, trying to stop the violent shivering and trembling of his weary body. Soon, he wouldn't let him near him while he was awake, so afraid that he would make Achilles sick, make him go through the same painful hell he was in. The thought of Achilles hurting like that was unendurable. Luckily, he could not stay awake for long, and Achilles always crept close and held onto him as he slept, afraid he would get too cold on his own.

Achilles held Patroclus tightly while he slept, promising himself that tomorrow, no matter what Patroclus said, once Patroclus woke up he was taking him to the campus health center and getting him some real help. 

Only, Patroclus didn't wake up. Achilles shook him and shook him but he couldn't make him stop sleeping.

\--

Achilles didn't like seeing Patroclus in the hospital, in a bed, with IVs in him. Admittedly this was a lot better than the last time he was here those months ago, sick and dehydrated to the point of unconsciousness. He had never been as scared as when he had carried him into the emergency room, begging one of the nurses to help him.

Luckily, two days, a course of antibiotics to treat the viral infection, and a lot of saline drips later, Patroclus was awake, alert, and filled with so much energy that Achilles had to threaten to tie him down to the bed. He had been warned by the nurses that, after days of being too weak to move, the reinvigoration would make him feel better than ever, but it was still shocking to see him filled with energy and talking a mile a minute in the bed, when not long before he had barely had the energy to lift his head. Achilles had been so relieved he'd laughed until a nurse offered to slap him.

At least this time, Patroclus was here because he wanted to be. The surgery had gone well, all the doctors said so. No complications, no reaction to the anesthesia, no gloves accidentally left between his ribs. And once the swelling went down, Patroclus' chest would be flat as a pancake.

Neither had expected it to happen so soon, but as a gift for his 20th birthday, Patroclus' mother had offered to match whatever Patroclus had in his top surgery fund. And now, two months and one nerve wracking surgery later, Achilles was waiting anxiously for him to wake up so he could see how he looked, even with the bandages.

He had put everything like the nurse had said, important things where Patroclus could reach without stretching, bendy straws, juice, lots of easy to eat fruit, and he had made sure his bed at home was stocked full of pillows. Probably more than necessary, but he fussed when he was nervous. Patroclus liked to joke that he nested while nervous, and he couldn't say he wholly disagreed with him. Buying three throw pillows to add to the pillow pile may have been a bit on the nesting side.

Patroclus groaned a little, starting to wake up. Achilles helped adjust his bed so he wouldn't injure himself trying to sit up. They said his muscles would be sore for a bit and things like sitting up and twisting his body wouldn't be easy.

"Feeling ok?"

Patroclus smiled woozily. "Tired, chest feels like hell." He winced a little as he pushed up a bit, then stopped as he looked down at his bandaged chest, a slow smile spreading over his face. "Worth it though."

The next few days were hell for Patroclus, even though he tried to hide it. He was restless, he was sore, he wanted to enjoy the summer but was stuck inside on couches and beds with television. Achilles tried to help, keeping him occupied with movies and games and whatever he could think of. They played every card game he knew and even invented a few new ones. Patroclus wasn't in a good mood, but he always made sure Achilles knew how much he appreciated this, even if they couldn't touch much until he healed beyond holding hands. 

Luckily it didn't take too long after the surgery that he could move around easily again and  they were able to go to the beach for the first time. Nothing in the world was better than Patroclus' smile as he walked around shirtless for the first time, tanning in the sun without a compression swim top, swimming in the water freely without any covering. That night, they waited for the beach to become deserted and created a bonfire, burning all his binders and watching them shrivel into nothing, then washing the ashes out into the ocean. They lay back and watched the sparks drift away into the stars, the last of the constricting fabric disappearing into clouds of dark smoke, never to touch Patroclus' skin again.

Achilles had never seen Patroclus that happy. He made sure to burn every smile, every laugh, and every kiss into his memory, forever.

\--

"God, can't you leave me alone for five seconds?!" Patroclus stormed across the room, not looking at Achilles. He shoved the scattered clothes off their bed and aggressively jerked the blankets into place before sitting, pointedly looking away.

"All I'm saying is, you've always complained about not having a ton of friends, wanting to have a bigger circle than just us and Briseis, but you never actually do anything to make them!" He followed angrily, not letting him just walk away from him. 

Patroclus sighed loudly. "That doesn't mean I want to go out every weekend! It's exhausting, it feels like a chore! I don't like just going out and talking to random strangers. Just because it's so easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me!"

"Oh yeah because everything is so easy for me, I've never had to work for anything!"

"That's not what I'm saying!"

Patroclus ran a hand through his hair angrily, Achilles glaring at him.

"You just don't like putting in effort! You want everything to just fall into your lap without actually working for it!" He immediately regretted that one, that was too far, even for a fight. That wasn't Patroclus, not at all. He had wanted to win the argument, to hurt him a little maybe, and based on the silence and the way Pat was looking at him, obviously he had. "I didn't mean that..."

Patroclus wasn't looking at him now, just sat with his head hanging sadly, breaking Achilles' heart. "I'm sorry."

Achilles sat next to him. "No, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. And not true, you're one of the hardest working people I know, Pat..."

Patroclus shook his head. "You're right though. I say I want more friends, but I don't ever do anything about it. I just sit around being sad about without doing anything." He put his face is in his hands. "And I shouldn't have made it sound like I think everything is easy for you, cause I know it's not, I was just mad at the situation and you were just trying to help..." He sighed. "I'm just jealous. You don't see the effect you have on people, but I do, and I wish I could be like that. I wish I could be like you."

Achilles hugged him. "If you were like me, you wouldn't be you, the perfect man I fell in love with. And trust me, the last thing this world needs is another me." Patroclus smiled a little and leaned against him, taking a deep breath.

"Well, first big fight, how did we do?"

Achilles shrugged, wobbling his hand back and forth. "I give us an A for energy, but I think we could have thrown some text books and broken the window, maybe. We'll have to step it up next time."

Patroclus giggled a little, looking up at him. It wasn't the worst fight they could have had, but it cleared the air, got the first one out of the way. They could get over them, they could talk and get past the little complications and flare ups, and that was what counted.

\--

As for complications at college, showering tended to be their biggest one. They had always liked bathing together, baths being much easier for Achilles than standing in a slippery shower, but their dorm did not have any baths, only showers. And each shower was, at most, two feet by two feet across.

This meant that, should they want to shower together, they took up the entire space, unable to bend or wiggle or do much of anything but try to squirm around the other to share the water. Even with only the six limbs between them, the space was cramped.They decided it wasn't worth it after Achilles slipped and grabbed Patroclus for balance, wedging them both awkwardly on the cold floor of the shower with shampoo bottles stuck in unfortunate places, water hitting them in face.

While Achilles missed the intimacy, missed feeling Patroclus' soapy body rubbing against his, missed the way those slim, sure fingers worked their way through his hair and down his neck to rub the stress out of his shoulders, he had to admit that there was a perk or two to showering separately. Namely, he could by lying on their bed and get a nice, full view of Patroclus as he dropped his towel and searched lazily for clothes, sometimes giving up halfway through to climb onto the bed with Achilles and lie with him, hair damp and cool against Achilles' cheek.

He may have begun getting up a little later each morning just to watch him change, if he was being honest. Rushing to class was worth the view.

That particular morning, however, as Achilles watched Patroclus dress, he had very little interest in rushing, or class, or getting out of bed at all. It was snowing outside, and he could hear the wind howling through their closed window. Not a day to be walking across campus to learn about audio editing or anatomy and physiology. No, today was for bed and being warm. So, when Patroclus wandered too close to the bed to find a pair of pants, Achilles pulled him back in, enveloping them both in the blankets.

"Achilles, I have class!"

He pressed his cold nose to Patroclus' neck. "Skip it with me, stay in bed."

Patroclus chuckled, running his fingers through Achilles hair. "Mm and what about your haircut?"

He kissed the dip at the base of his throat. "I'll get it trimmed tomorrow."

He smiled against those golden curls. "But it's french toast day for breakfast..."

Achilles pulled back, looking into his eyes. "I swear this to you, you shall have french toast on this day. But not now." He flopped back down, burrowing against Patroclus. "It's too cold without you. Stay, wait out the storm with me."

He knew he would win. There were many things in this world Patroclus disliked, but cold and wind were at the very top of that list, and he was always looking for a reason to avoid them at all costs. And with the addition of the heated blanket they had bought the year before, it was hard to argue getting out once he was in.

Their morning was spent dozing and peppering each other with small kisses, hands roaming and exploring areas they would know in their sleep, hills and valleys they had explored a thousand and one times. Then they watched some cooking shows, yelling at the competitors that forgot ingredients or were plating with only 30 seconds left, then watching the Russian movie with Keira Knightley that Patroclus loved but Achilles didn't understand.

By the time it had ended and Patroclus had once again explained it to him, neither could deny the rumbling of their stomachs. So, bundling each other up in scarves and hats, they set forth into town, Achilles finding a diner that agreed to give them french toast for lunch, sharing the same side of a booth. Achilles piled his with a mountain of powdered sugar while Patroclus drowned his in cinnamon and syrup. Patroclus paid and got them two hot chocolates to go, insisting they go to the local book shop before returning to their room.

Achilles had been wary at first, longing for their warm covers and a much less dressed version of his boyfriend, but couldn't help but be charmed by the small shop. The lights were dim, with small white Christmas lights strung along the tops of the bookshelves. He wanted to look around a little more but Patroclus took his hand and lead him upstairs to a small loft area that overlooked the store, a worn futon, a few bean bag chairs, a purple shag carpet, and a number of short bookshelves stuffed with books the only things up there.

"This is my special place. I wanted to show it to you." He plopped onto the futon, pulling Achilles down with him. Achilles kept looking around in wonder. Cut out snowflakes were being hung from the ceiling by a worker below them. He couldn't imagine it would take many to fill the small place and bring the beauty of the winter inside without the cold. 

"Why show it to me?" He looked to Patroclus, who was looking around the place with a serene smile, an easy comfort clear in his relaxed body. He'd obviously been there many times before. He looked like he belonged in the warm, comforting place. That's what Patroclus was; Warmth and comfort, a day spent in bed with snow outside, hot chocolate pressed between cold hands, warm breath against his chilled neck. His heart outside his body, his soul shared with another person.

"Because, I love it and I love you, and I thought you might like it as much as I do. And if I can make you happy, I want to." He smiled, and Achilles thought he might die of happiness right there. It was not a giddy happiness, the kind that made you want to fly away into a hundred different pieces. It was a contented happiness, like nothing in the world could be more perfect than this moment, sitting on an old futon, noses pressed together, surrounded by nothing but each other and the soft Christmas music playing over the speakers, Mariah Carey lamenting that all she wanted for Christmas was them. It was the kind of happiness that made you want to melt together until nothing separated you.

He reached his hand to Patroclus' face, his cold metal left hand, stroking Pat's cheek. His whole life, his greatest fear had been to repulse someone he loved. That they would shy from the cold metal, see him as inhuman or undesirable when his prosthetics were off, but that had never been Patroclus. He had always accepted every part of him, loved the flesh and the metal together, loved him with them on and loved him with them off, it made no difference to him. He had hoped, as a child, to one day find someone who made him forget the metal of his body, but instead he had found Patroclus, who made made him realize that he didn't have to forget it. He could love it as part of himself just as Patroclus did.

"I love you." They had said it countless times, a hundred times a day, everywhere imaginable, but the weight this particular one carried was stronger than the others, binding them together in a way the others had not. Before now, Achilles might have been able to go on without him by his side, might have been able to walk away and survive, wounded but alive. But no more. From this moment, he needed Patroclus. He did not want to live without those eyes, those hands, that voice. "Let's find an apartment, off campus. A place for us that we can make our own. A place we can make like this. I want us to have a home, together. Our place."

Patroclus simply smiled and nodded, putting down their drinks and moving forward to rest his head on Achilles' shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist.

Achilles didn't know how long they stayed like that, cocooned in the warmth and love of one another, holding Patroclus tightly to him, but it was a moment Achilles would never forget, as long as he lived.

\--

Achilles burst in through the door, loaded down with bags and bags filled with presents. Patroclus rushed in after, him, closing the door behind them with their suitcases, a cheer from his family rising as they saw him. Achilles would be having Christmas with them that year, a plot by Patroclus to get them used to him, should a certain event take place in their future that would be binding him to this family. Every year his family rented a large cabin in the Adirondack mountains, not a place Achilles had ever gone willingly, but he had to admit that covered in snow and moonlight, he could see its charm. Patroclus took off his hat and walked forward into a mass of hugs from aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, friends of the family, and finally his mother, who pulled Achilles into the hug too.

They were quickly inducted into tree decorating once all introductions were over, Achilles on the lights and Patroclus on the beaded garlands. Meaning, of course, that they were in charge of untangling yard upon yard of impossibly tangled wire and string as the children unpacked the ornaments and played with them. Achilles was used to store bought trees with the lights already on, evenly spaced and taking only a moment to set up. He found that this, sitting squished between Patroclus and a sleeping great uncle, giggling to one another over who had the worse job, while watching old Christmas movies and making fun of them, was much more enjoyable. Patroclus was very good, he found, at imitating the voices of the elves in Rudolph, making them say vulgar things when the children weren't listening.

When all was untangled, they began the arduous process of looping every single light they could find around the tree, followed by beads, then sparkling garlands and tinsel, then what he assumed was 80 pounds of ornaments that every family member must have brought personally from home, and then an orange, blue, and red star.

It was garish, it was mismatched, it was probably incredibly ugly, but Achilles had never seen a more wonderful tree. The children began piling presents around it as he went into the other room to help an aunt he thought might be Linda with snacks while Patroclus messed with the tree, one strand of lights not turning on.

He was pouring cider when there was a sharp pop accompanied by the lights flickering and Patroclus yelling "Fixed it!" before jogging to the bathroom, holding his hand gingerly. He chuckled, unsure of how his poor boyfriend survived life sometimes.

He called his father that night, wishing a Merry Christmas to him and his new girlfriend, asking if the presents had arrived on time and getting an affirmative answer. They were somewhere south and warm for Christmas, enjoying sun and sand rather than snow. He hung up the phone at the end of the conversation but stayed in the hall. He had been avoiding the living room for the last half hour, Pats grandmother having hung all the stockings, his own included, by the fireplace and along the adjoining walls. He was afraid if he saw them all hanging there, his stocking mixed in with Patroclus' family, he would not be able to stop himself from bursting into tears at the site, of being really and truly part of a complete family.

\--

"Achilles, come in here a minute! I wanna show you and Pat something."

He wandered to the kitchen, holding a half eaten snow man cookie the children had frosted earlier, one of Patroclus' slightly older cousins taking something from the freezer. "Now that the kids are away, I wanted to have you guys test this out."

He took out four glasses, one for himself, another cousin, and Achilles and Patroclus, who was looking as uneasy as he felt. There was a slightly tawny liquid in the chilled mason jar he held aloft like a trophy. He stirred it a moment, then poured what couldn't be more than two milliliters per glass.

Patroclus leaned to his ear. "I don't trust anything that doesn't freeze."

He whispered back. "Or that is dangerous in quantities above microscopic levels."

His cousin, oblivious to their nerves, raised his own glass. "Macedonian moonshine, I dare you to find any stronger." He knocked his back so the others did as well. Achilles tried not to choke as he felt it burning its way down his esophagus and throughout his intestines. Patroclus looked like he was holding his breath, his face turning red and trying not to explode. They waited for the cousins to leave  to recruit more victims before both began violently coughing, Patroclus doubling over.

"Oh god, that was literal poison. I'm dying..."

Achilles rushed to the sink, sticking his mouth under the tap, letting the cold water shoot into his mouth, trying to put out the fire in his stomach. "I don't know how the Macedonians turned fire into a liquid but good on them."

They heard his cousin call for a second round and ran to their room, shouting hurried goodnights to everyone before their livers shut down from another quarter swallow of what Achilles could only assume was pure alcohol mixed with lighter fluid.

Their room was in the attic, though it wasn't cold as Achilles has feared. It seemed the rising warmth of the rest of the house settled there and became trapped by the insulation, making the small space perfectly cozy for the two of them.

He looked out the window in the middle of changing, unable to draw himself away. He had never seen so many stars, even during their walks at the edge of campus. They were so bright they reflected off the frozen surface of the lake along with the half full moon. The snow was falling softly, fat flakes that lazily fell to the ground without wind. He guessed they'd have another foot by the next morning, at least.

"It's perfect." He turned to Patroclus, who was smiling at them from their small bed in the center of the room. "Perfect."

\--

Achilles had never experienced such a hectic Christmas day. For him, the usual was going downstairs, hugging whichever parent he was with that year, opening a few presents, then going to the house of the other parent to repeat the process and be done by early afternoon. Here, every parent, child, and person in between seemed to be running every which way, trying to find places to stack presents and fit everyone into the overcrowded room, the present stack having grown exponentially over night as the various "Santas" snuck down to arrange their children's presents. Everyone was in their pajamas still, munching freshly made cinnamon rolls and drinking orange juice, something he guessed was the traditional breakfast of the household on Christmas. Patroclus sat on Achilles lap to make room, something neither could terribly mind.

The small children received most of the presents, toys and games and books with large color pictures in them. Patroclus got sweatshirts and sweaters from family, as well as gift cards to help pay for gas and school books, or, as one was labeled, "Other college supplies" with a winking face drawn on. That one was from an uncle who got a slipper thrown at him, his aunt protesting that her Patroclus could never do anything that card was insinuating. Achilles even got a sweater and a pair of sweatpants, a gift he had not expected and thanked them all profusely for, tears once again threatening his recently delicate emotions.

For their own personal gift exchange, he had found a book for Patroclus, the book his Russian movie was based on, a special treasury edition with essays in the back analyzing every aspect of the book and the author, Tolstoy, as he had been told by the Barnes and Noble employee. Pat ran his fingers over the ornamented cover reverently, a rich royal blue with golden accents. 

"It's so beautiful, Achilles, truly..." He hugged Achilles tightly, kissing him hard. "It's perfect, the perfect gift. Thank you."

Achilles smiled, so happy to see him happy. It took much nudging from Patroclus to make him open his own present, wanting to continue basking in Patroclus' happiness. His was a small box with an opalescent ribbon tied carefully around it. Inside, a necklace on a simple golden chain, a waxing crescent moon the pendant in a gold frame. He looked at Patroclus curiously.

"There's, um, this company." He explained. "And you can tell them a specific date and they'll look up what the moon looked like on that exact day, and make it into a necklace." He turned the necklace over, indicating the date, roughly eight years ago. "That was what the moon looked like the day we met." He looked up at Achilles, eyes nervous.

Achilles swallowed. He would never be without it, never. He pulled Patroclus to him fiercely, choking out a watery "Thank you." The children giggled as they kissed again, making Patroclus blush. Achilles wanted this, all of this, always. He wanted to be surrounded by family and love and Patroclus, always.

He looped the necklace around his neck carefully.

\--

Finals week of their senior year was one of the roughest they had seen. Exam after paper after paper after exam, both surrounded by note sheets and note cards and printed out slides from every lecture they could get their hands on, eating what they could order in, showering at 2 in the morning, sleeping as little as they could. It was easier now that they had their own place, fewer people running up and down the halls to bother them, but it was exhausting. Their air conditioning in their apartment was little more than a light breeze and the May heat was stifling. Every window had been thrown open, every unnecessary article of clothing strewn about the room, frozen washcloths draped over their shoulders and dripping water down their arms and two fans made the rounds to whatever room they were in at the time. No television, no music, no sound but constant typing and scratching onto note cards, or the microwave reheating leftovers. 

Patroclus was nervously trying to memorize the human body over again and anything that could go wrong, along with then how to fix it for tests and lab practicals he would be bombarded with. Achilles was editing and editing and editing, along with trying to write a number of pieces for different classes. No matter how hard he tried, he kept mixing up each song, constantly erasing and rewriting the correct notes over the incorrect ones, the songs jumbling uselessly in his head. Sometimes he would cover his mouth and hum them to himself to try and recapture the slipping melodies.

When the last paper was submitted, the last test taken, the last performance finished, they collapsed together on the floor of their tiny living room, panting from the heat and the giddiness of it all finally being over, and the fear of what in gods name was to come next.

Achilles brought Patroclus' hand to his mouth, kissing each sore, swollen, and bruised finger. He was afraid, but not completely. Whatever came next, whatever happened, Patroclus was here by his side. Nothing in the world could be greater than that.


	3. And A Happily Ever After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the final chapter, guys. Hope you like it! Comment if you'd like.

Achilles clung to Patroclus tightly, not wanting to let him go. He knew he had to go, he knew he would be back, but three weeks was longer than they had ever been separated before, and he would be on the other side of the ocean all that time. Achilles didn't like it.

He knew why he had to go, he had been there when Patroclus got the call. His parents were officially getting divorced, but neither could leave where they were working long enough to meet with the other, so Patroclus was to go to Germany in his mother's place to figure out the terms of the divorce that would benefit her as well as his estranged father, who had offered to pay for his stay in a hotel rather than offer him a place at his home. Patroclus didn't want to leave, but he also wouldn't take the risk of his mother losing everything in the divorce because she didn't have someone advocating for her. So, three days later, it was 5:30 in the morning and they were holding each other tightly outside the security line.

"I can still come if you want."

Patroclus shook his head. "You can't miss your internship, not for this. I'll be back before you know it." He kissed Achilles forehead. "I froze meals for you in the freezer, just reheat them."

"I can cook for myself, you know."

Pat chuckled. "Yes, but you can't live off spaghetti and sandwiches for 21 days, you would die." He gave his hand a final squeeze. "I'll call you when I'm at the hotel."

Achilles nodded, taking a deep breath. They kissed one last time then he stood back and watched Patroclus go through security, wave at the other side, then disappear. It would be a long three weeks.

\--

By the time his plane finally landed, it was well into the night. He groaned and stretched at the baggage claim, his hopes of sleeping most of the 8 hour flight unfulfilled. An airsick four year old and a rather cranky businessman made that rather impossible. His back was killing him, he was tired, and now he would have to try and find a cab and get to his hotel with his minimal grasp of German. He missed home already.

Hauling his suit case outside, he was at least able to get a cab within ten minutes and get the driver to understand where he wanted to go with lots of pointing at a map and trying various pronunciations of the hotel name before he got it. Then, settling into the back tiredly, his stomach ached tremendously from not eating anything since he had left that morning. He was tempted to eat somewhere along the way, but didn't trust his tired brain to properly handle the amount of translating he would need to order what he wanted. He yawned loudly and rubbed at his eyes. Travelling alone sucked. Travelling tired sucked. Travelling to work with his father and a bunch of lawyers for three weeks sucked.

HE paid what he thought was an appropriate tip to the driver and hauled his bags inside, arms screaming. The man behind the desk seemed put out at the fact that he was American, sighing and speaking in fluent but reluctant English as he gave him his key and found someone to help him take his bags up to his room. He tried making a few comments in German about the hotel and the town, but the man continued to not look at him so he gave up, feeling homesick.

His room was boiling hot when he entered, immediately drawing sweat from his forehead. He tried to turn and ask about how to control the temperature of the room but the manager had already disappeared down the hall and around the corner. He sighed and went to the bathroom, hoping a shower might help. He chuckled wryly to himself when he saw the large polar bear on the shower curtain, hoping that wasn't meant to be funny.

He showered quickly, blasting himself with a shock of cold water to try and cool down and get the smell of the plane off, before collapsing onto his bed, calling Achilles. The bed felt too big for just one person. He fanned himself with the channel guide as it rang, wondering how open he could get the windows.

"Hey!" Achilles' face popped into view as he took the face time call, sitting in their living room. He reminded Patroclus of a puppy sometimes, how excited he got when they saw each other after being apart. Despite his fatigue, and hunger, and the uncomfortable heat, he could not stop the smile spreading across his face at the sight of him. He really did miss him already.

"Hey. Things holding up over there without me?"

"Buildings have begun crumbling and the walls are weeping blood, but other than that the country seems to be handling it rather well."

He curled up onto his side, looking at Achilles for a moment without answering. He had offered to come with him many times and it had been so tempting to say yes, to enjoy a European vacation with the one person he loved most. But Achilles had gotten an internship at a radio station that started in a week, he couldn't make him lose that chance for this. Achilles was so good, had such an ear for editing, he knew they would hire him once they worked with him.

They talked through the night, about the plane ride and the hotel manager, about how Achilles could spend his week alone before the internship began. It never failed to amaze him, how Achilles could make the whole world disappear until only the two of them were left existing.

\--

Achilles was bored.

He was bored with the tv, he was bored with the town, he was bored with his instruments and his books. It had been three days since Patroclus had left and he felt so tired and dull. Everything felt strange without Patroclus there to do it with him, shopping was too quiet, the bus was too loud, the small apartment had become impossibly big, filled with a deafening silence without Patroclus walking around and talking to him, or turning the pages of a book on their living room futon. 

Patroclus called every day, telling him what he had been up to. The first two days his father had been too busy with work to do anything, so he had toured around Berlin, taking pictures and eating.

"I'm so full..." He had moaned the second day, lying on his hotel bed. "Everything here tastes so good, I can't not eat it. I don't know what any of it is, but it's all the best thing I've ever eaten." He said he was collecting all the recipes he could so they could try and make them at home. 

It was the third day that they were finally able to begin. Patroclus told him how strange it was to be in a room with his father again, almost nine years after seeing him last.

"He looks old, Achilles. I've never seen him look old, it's so strange. I thought seeing him again would feel... I don't know, that I would feel something? But I don't know this man anymore, he's just a man who looks a little like me." He went on to say that the meetings were even more boring than he had feared. His father would say something he wanted, Patroclus would say how his mother wanted it, then two lawyers would argue about it until they came to a compromise, and Patroclus and his father would say if they liked it or not and they would move to the next item. It was slow and grueling and Patroclus seemed to be going out of his mind with boredom as intensely as Achilles was.

The sixth day, an intern arrived with his father's lawyer.

"He's the most annoying person in the world, Achilles, it's torture. I even wish we could go back to how it was before, at least that was only boring."

At first Achilles laughed along with him, but soon it became that every day there was a new story of what the intern Benji had done and a part of him, way in the back of his mind at first, then more prominently, began worrying. He pictured a tall, attractive European model of a man, training to be a successful lawyer, sitting in a room with Patroclus every day, pushing his buttons and getting a reaction out of him. It felt like every romantic movie they had ever seen together; The boring high school boyfriend was left at home while the charming protagonist went to handle business elsewhere, only to meet a handsome but infuriating man with a hidden heart of gold who would sweep him off his feet. He would call one day from a train on its way to a French vineyard to call things off, head resting on Benji's muscular shoulder. God, he hated thinking about it. It wasn't that he didn't trust Patroclus, thought him unfaithful, he just didn't trust himself to be enough once Patroclus had seen what else he could have. Soon, he expected every phone call to be a goodbye, every conversation to start with "Achilles, you know I love you, but..."

Finally, after two weeks of Patroclus being away, he tried to bring it up as casually as possible.

"So, is he cute?"

Patroclus choked a little in a laugh, sitting in a German cafe and waiting for his coffee. "Benji? Good god, no. He looks like he's 12 and talks the same. It feels like we're all joint babysitting." He titled his head to the side. "Why do you ask? Want me to get his number for you or something?"

Achilles laughed a little breathlessly, shaking his head. "No, I... I was just worried, that maybe, sitting in a room with a handsome German lawyer to be, high off all that delicious German food..."

"That I would run away with him or something?" He laughed a moment before realizing Achilles was serious, sobering quickly. "I promise, Achilles, nothing is happening. He's a whiny college kid who speaks a different language, he couldn't hold a candle to you."

"I know, I wasn't saying... I just get a little nervous." He tried to smile. "When you're dating the best man in the world, it's hard not to be aware of how everyone would probably love to be in your place." Patroclus blushed a little and looked down.

"Well if I travel anywhere else, then you can worry about some sort of "Taken" situation happening. Here, they hear me speak with an American accent and immediately get annoyed with me. They don't like how I speak German either, they get all huffy when I misspeak. I'm sure they'll be quite happy to be rid of me." He took a sip of his coffee and moaned. "Oh god, I'm going to miss the food. Even their coffee tastes amazing. Truly if I'm doing any cheating, it's on the little old Italian ladies across the hall."

Achilles grinned. "Speaking of them, they've been feeding me all week."

Patroclus laughed. "I left you food! And you're a grown adult person perfectly able to make your own food."

"Yes but to them I am an abandoned bachelor who can't fend for himself. And it's not like I go over there begging for food, they call me over and have a whole five minute speech planned for why they just happen to have an entire lasagna they aren't using."

Patroclus laughed again, and all Achilles' fears vanished in the light of their happiness, separated by an ocean or not.

\--

On the second to last day, Patroclus' father asked if they could have lunch together, to which he couldn't help but agree. Since his father left, he'd wanted nothing from him but answers as to why he left them, what he did wrong, why he was so repulsive to him that he never came back, never called, never wanted to see them again.

They sat quietly for a while in a cafe, eating their meals, not looking at each other. Finally his father sat up straight, pushed his place away, and looked at him.

"I never wanted to have children. Or get married, really."

Patroclus blanched at the statement and nodded, so his father continued.

"I just did it because it's what you do. You get married, have a kid, go about your life. If you don't, people just bother you about it, try to set you up with people. So, I married your mother and had you. But it wasn't for me, was never the kind of life I wanted. Being so tied down to others, spending so much time taking care of other people... You coming out was my chance to get away. If I left before then, there would have only been rumors. Of a lover, a secret family, that I had been a homosexual the entire time." Patroclus winced slightly. "But when you came out, I knew I could get away. Some people would be sympathetic, say it had been too much for me. Others might call me a bigot, but they'd shrug and say it was how I was raised, maybe. But it was the easiest reason." He looked at Patroclus then, into his eyes. "It was about me, it was not about you. I never hated you, never really cared about your gender or your sexuality. You were just... Well, obligation sounds harsh, but there it is." He sat back, waiting for Patroclus' reply.

"Alright." He nodded slowly. "That's... Better than I had feared, at least." He looked at the man he had once known as his father. He had never read him bedtime stories, never spent much quality time with him, never played with him or taught him how to play sports or make friends. He was nothing to his father, and his father was nothing to him. At the very least, they were on even footing.

He looked his father over as he began eating again, really looked at him for the first time. He thought this might be what he looked like, when he was older. They had the same sharp jaw, same straight nose. His hair would probably start to gray at the temples like that. But he had his mother's large eyes, and he did not see himself with that many frown lines one day. Really, they weren't alike, not at all.

They both finished eating in silence then returned to the meeting room. Benji continued his daily ritual of stopping his father's lawyer every other minute to ask what something meant, often looking at him and his father then saying something in German, obviously trying to seem secretive and in control despite the fact that Patroclus could tell that ha;f the time he was just asking more questions about the definitions of words. Soon, tomorrow it would be over. By noon the next day, he would be on a plane home.

\--

Achilles left work early that day, finishing editing the pizza commercial early and submitting it to his superiors before grabbing his jacket and racing out the door, desperate to get to the airport early.

Standing on his toes in the waiting area, looking through the glass divider anxiously, surrounded by only one or two passing people, time couldn't have been going slower. It was early afternoon in Germany but early morning there, so few people were waiting with him. That was good, he could tackle Patroclus without anyone judging them.

He bounced up and down, somehow hoping the movement would land the plane faster and get Patroclus there sooner.

Finally, finally, he saw the shaggy haired head walking towards him, face lighting up when their eyes met. Soon Patroclus was running towards him. their bodies colliding, and they were clinging to each other, Achilles spinning him around. 

"You're back!"

"I'm back!"

Achilles squished him closer, nuzzling his neck, inhaling deeply. "Well, there's a shit ton of Italian food waiting for you at home, unless you miss the German food already."

Patroclus shook his head against his shoulder. "German food is good, but I missed the little Italian ladies and their food, and eating it with you on our little futon while watching crap tv. That's home."

\--

They were 24 now, and Achilles thought it was time. They had known each other for ten years now and Achilles knew he had found the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The question was, how should he go about asking?

He considered taking him to a restaurant, going on a vacation, making them a romantic meal, but none of it seemed enough, none of it seemed original enough for what he wanted to express. Plus, he knew Pat would see right through it and know immediately that he was proposing. It took him three months to think of the perfect solution.

"An obstacle course 5K?" Patroclus raised an eyebrow, looking at the website Achilles had set in front of him. "We aren't big athletes, A..."

Achilles plopped next to him. "I know, but it's not about having a great time or being the fastest, it's about fun! See, you climb these walls, crawl through mud, jump over a little fire strip at the end, it's fun! See, we can go to a bed and breakfast nearby, have a nice night, get up early, spend the morning doing this, then spend the rest of the day eating pizza in a hot tub and moaning about how we earned it. It'll be fun!"

Pat didn't look incredibly sold on the idea, but Achilles was too excited about it to say no to, so he nodded. "Okay, sign us up."

\--

Patroclus was panting as they ran up the hill. No one had mentioned that the first leg was a straight uphill run. He wanted to feel a little angry about it, complain a little bit, but he didn't want Achilles to think he was having a bad time and feel badly, so he plastered a smile on his face and reached the crest of the hill, the first obstacle ahead of them, an easy set of tires they had to weave in and out of leading to a beam of wood over a mud pit.

"How mad would you be if I pushed you in there?"

Patroclus laughed. "You do that and you're walking home."

Achilles grinned and they ran forward, weaving between the tires and hopping onto the beam, Patroclus taking Achilles' hand when he saw him wobbling, helping steady him and walking across the beam with him before hopping down, helping Achilles down before running again. They were half way to the next obstacle when there was a rumble overhead and the skies opened up, a downpour unleashing on them. They stopped a moment, looked at each other, and burst out laughing. Of course, rain was all this course needed.

Scrambling up the next obstacle, a a rain soaked slanted wooden wall with a rope to help them up and a flat top to stand on before sliding down the other side.

"Wait, let's move over, I need to fix my shoe."

Patroclus nodded and slid under a piece of wood that sheltered them a little from the rain. He shook his head a little, shaking the rain from his hair and wiping his hands on his pants, already covered in mud. He looked to Achilles to see if he was ready and saw that he was not in fact tying his shoe, but was kneeling in front of him, smiling up at him, that look in his eyes.

"Patroclus."

His mouth went dry. "Achilles."

He smiled up at him. "I love you Patroclus, more than anything. We have been together now for over a decade, and you have been the greatest part of my life. You are the second half of me, the better half absolutely. You are my peace and my joy and my love, you mean more to me than anything or anyone in this world, and I want to spend the rest of eternity like this, by your side, learning even more about you, seeing who you're going to become beyond this moment. I've gone over this speech a thousand times in my head and I've never been able to fully articulate what it is I want to say to you, how much you truly mean to me. So all I can ask now is, would you marry me?"

Patroclus stared at him, hand over his mouth. He couldn't believe this. Achilles really and truly wanted this as much as he did, wanted to be with him. He couldn't speak past the lump in his throat, just went to his knees and held onto him tightly, nodding fervently against his shoulder. Achilles held him tightly, laughing in relief. 

"I love you, Pat..."

Patroclus straightened and kissed him happily, holding his face happily.

He bumped their noses together, smiling so hard his face hurt, his mind filled with  _Achilles._

\--

Patroclus tried to fix his tie for the thousandth time, getting a sense of deja vu, remembering back to the night of their prom, waiting for Achilles to come, hoping it would be as magical as it was. He ran fingers through his hair, pushing it this way and that. His heart was pounding in his ears and his palms were sweating no matter how many times he wiped them. 

But this wasn't something to be scared of, he kept telling himself. He wasn't going to marry someone scary or that he didn't know, this was Achilles. He was going to stand in front of his family and friends, and tell them all that he was spending the rest of his life with his best friend.

Somewhere two rooms away, Achilles was getting ready too, putting on his suit, taking calming breaths, probably much calmer than Patroclus at the moment.

\--

Achilles held onto the sink, breathing raggedly. Oh god, it was only twenty minutes away now. He didn't know why he was panicking, he just knew that it felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest, if he didn't pass out first.

He needed Pat. 

He quickly finished dressing, buttoning the jacket and fixing his tie without paying much attention to what he was doing. Sneaking out of the room, he quickly made his way to Patroclus' room, knocking rapidly. Pat opened the door, looking only mildly surprised to see him and pulling him into the room, hugging him tight.

"Why am I freaking out?"

Achilles squeezed him tight. "I don't know, I'm freaking out too, though. I feel all shaky and lightheaded."

Pat helped him to a little couch and got him some water, sitting next to him as he took big gulps of it.

"Why do you think it's so scary? We've been together so long, we're not really changing much. Just sorta saying we're not gonna break up. Why does it feel so big?"

Achilles took his hand, playing with his fingers. "I think because we've hit the part of our lives where we make these decisions. Next we may buy a house, have a kid. We're adults now, we can't hide from it."

Pat nodded, taking a deep breath and smiling up at him. "Well, if I'm doing this with anyone, if I'm going to become an adult and go through all those scary things with anyone, I'm glad it's going to be you. I wouldn't want it to be anyone else."

\--

Briseis knocked on the door frame and poked her head in, smiling at them. "What a surprise, you're both in here. Time to get in position, boys, the show's about to start."

Achilles walked out, having to go a little further than Patroclus, who hung back a moment. Briseis tried to force a smile but he could see some tears in her eyes. He knew how she felt about him, she had even asked once if there was a way she could be with him while he was with Achilles, saying polyamory made many couples very happy. But to him she had always been his sister and friend, so incredibly important to him, but not a lover. He would be eternally grateful that she had still wanted to be in his life as a friend, and one day he would find a way to make her as happy as he was.

She took his arm and lead him to the door that lead to the left side of the grand hall, heading back inside to sit and wait for them to enter. They had decided that they weren't interested in having one walk down the aisle to the other, so instead they would start at opposite ends of the hall and meet the officiant in the middle, then walk down the aisle together after it had ended. Achilles loved the symbolism of it all.

His heart sped a bit as the music began to play. Wiping his hands one more time, he counted to three and opened the door, Achilles on the opposite side doing the same. They smiled at each other and slowly walked forward, meeting in the center and taking each others hands. Once their hands met, all the tension seemed to melt out of his body. It was him and Achilles, nothing in the world but him and Achilles. He could hear the officiant speaking, a man they had carefully sought after for his wonderful wedding speeches, but he didn't pay attention to a word of it. Achilles was smiling like the day they met, igniting the room with light and warmth, and all of it was for him.

He felt something brush his hand and looked down to see Achilles tracing on his palm, realizing he was slowly making letters.

I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U

He smiled and traced on Achilles, careful not to let anybody see.

I-L-Y-M-O-R-E

Achilles leaned their foreheads together, moving his hands to Pat's waist, holding him close as the officiants voice rang out over the room.

"Please repeat after me. I, Patroclus Menoetides."

He swallowed thickly. "I, Patroclus Menoetides."

"Take you, Achilles Pelides."

The tears came then, a single one sliding down his cheek as he realized this was truly happening. "Take you, Achilles Pelides."

"To be my lawfully wedded husband."

To be my lawfully. Wedded. Husband." Achilles was tearing up too now, his lower lip trembling a little.

"In sickness and in health."

He smiled a little. Yes, Achilles had been there for him in sickness more than he could have ever hoped. He would be repaying that kindness for the rest of his life. "In sickness, and in health."

"In this life, and in the next."

"In this life, and in the next." Neither had wanted to reference death in their vows, convinced that it could not stop them from being together.

Achilles repeated the same words, choking up on Patroclus' name and the word husband, his hand trembling in Patroclus'.

When the officiant proclaimed they could kiss their groom, they pulled each other into a tear filled kiss, holding the other tightly. Patroclus could hear the song from prom night playing in his head, sounding just like it did during their first kiss. Their families clapped, his mother cried and even Thetis looked close to expressing an emotion.

The reception was beautiful. Achilles, sentimental fool he was, wanted it decorated like the bookstore had been the day Patroclus showed it to him years ago, saying it was the day he knew he wanted to marry him. White fairy lights on the ceiling and the tables, paper snowflakes adorning every surface along with fake snow scattered in the centers and along the edge of the dance floor. He had really fallen in love with winter in the past years.

They both cried again during their first dance, though he didn't know if he could call it again if neither had really been able to stop in the first place. They had thought of learning a special dance for their dance, a waltz maybe, but neither could do more than hold onto the other and sway to the music, nuzzled close to each other.

Next came a number of toasts, Peleus giving a heartfelt speech about how Patroclus had become as much his son as Achilles, Briseis giving a short but sweet speech about how she had never seen two happier people than Achilles and Patroclus when they were together. Patroclus' father didn't come, not that he had really expected it, but Achilles still seethed that he couldn't be bothered to at least send a gift. There was just a check, with nothing but "Wedding" on the memo line.

A special artist came next, one who specialized in painting on prosthetics. He looked at rings on Patroclus' hand before painting exact copies onto his hand.

"Beautiful rings."

Achilles nodded solemnly. "Yeah, they cost me an arm and a leg." Patroclus couldn't hear the mans reply over Achilles laughing at his own joke, or any of the subsequent times that night that he cracked himself up thinking about it. After the third time, he couldn't help but laugh along too.

Then dinner, filled with people clinking their glasses to make them kiss, as well as Thetis shockingly not complaining about the food. She didn't compliment it, but she didn't say anything bad about it, which was good enough for Patroclus.

They each pressed cake into each others faces for the pictures, putting dots of icing on each others noses and kissing them off. Patroclus didn't really like cake, so he made Achilles eat both their pieces, painting frosting on him every time he wasn't paying enough attention to deflect him.

They each danced with their mothers as well as Briseis, they each had coworkers get embarrassingly drunk, and they each got many tipsy and tearful hugs from Achilles' step mother to be, so touched she had been invited no matter how many times they assured her that it was no trouble at all.

More dancing followed long into the night until, sore footed and exhausted, they waved to everyone and left in their car to the airport before boarding a plane on the way to Berlin, falling asleep halfway through looking over the itinerary Patroclus made of all the places he wanted to show Achilles, and all the food they needed to eat while there.

\--

Achilles looked out the window as he sank into the warm Jacuzzi bath, overlooking the city. The sun had just begun to set, painting the world a glowing pink and orange. After everything, the plane and the dancing and the gallons of adrenaline that had run through his system, he felt ready to fall asleep right there in the tub. He looked away from the window and found an even better view as Patroclus slipped into the water next to him, groaning as settled into the steaming water.

"Mmm, this is the way to relax after a plane trip..."

Achilles pulled him closer, nuzzling his hair. "And a Benji free Germany trip." Patroclus giggled and nodded, closing his eyes. He began tracing nonsensical shapes over Achilles' chest as he settled against him, making a happy humming noise.

"And a dad free trip, a lawyer free trip, a divorce free trip... And a trip where we're finally together during it. No one is left behind."

Achilles kissed Patroclus' forehead, brushing his lips over his closed eyelids, down his nose, over those wonderful cheekbones, down that delicious jaw, and curving around to those dark, perfect full lips, pulling him to his lap and holding their wet bodies close together, sliding over one another languidly.

"Perfect. Perfect." He pressed his lips to Patroclus' shoulder, tracing his tongue along his collar bone, Patroclus moaning slightly under the touch, running his fingers through Achilles hair.

"Yes. Perfect."

\--

"Hey Achilles, can you give me a- Can you help me in here a sec?" 

"What were you going to say the first time?"

He sighed, scrubbing at the pot in his hands. "I'm not saying that, just come help me."

"I'll help if you say what you were going to say."

"How about you help because you're a good husband?"

"Please?"

Patroclus sighed, smiling a little to himself and shifting a bit to the right. "Alright. Achilles, can you give me a ha-" Achilles' arm flew into the room, hitting the paper towel roll and knocking it over, Achilles following, a bright grin on his face.

"Yes."

Pat shook his head, smiling. "You're going to break your arm one of these days, and then what are you going to do?"

"Learn to dry with one hand?" He put the arm back into place and picked up a towel, taking the pot from Patroclus and drying it off, smiling innocently at him. Pat chuckled and kissed his cheek.

"Yeah, you better. You're not getting out of this just because you break yourself."

"Oh, I couldn't break this if I tried. Made out of the same stuff they make the space shuttle out of. Or something like that."

They smiled at one another, letting their arms brush together as they quietly worked, washing and drying and humming together. Tomorrow they would be having dinner with Peleus and his new wife, in three months they would be hosting their first family Christmas for Patroclus' family as well as Achilles' family, and in two weeks they would begin the adoption process on a pair of two year old twins.

But for now, in that moment, the last light of day spilling in through the window, all was calm. Achilles glowed like he did that first day in the nurses' office, Patroclus smiled like he did that day in the bookstore, both knowing that everything was finally falling into place.

All was calm in their quiet little house. It was a good moment, a good day, a good life.

 


End file.
